


Winter Lights

by stuff_and_nonsense



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, Holidays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-09-30 08:19:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17220314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stuff_and_nonsense/pseuds/stuff_and_nonsense
Summary: Molly doesn't have any holiday traditions.





	Winter Lights

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DragonBandit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonBandit/gifts).



> Mollymauk never died. Set at some nebulous point in the future when he's been traveling with the group for a while. 
> 
> Could be read as pre-slash.

The snow was deep outside of Rexxantraum. The Mighty Nein had less than an hour of travel left to reach the city, but they’d opted to camp for the night. The sun had set early and cold, and none of them were eager to face what they would find there.

Molly had been this cold before, but he wasn’t fond of it. He was relieved when they stopped for the night, and Caleb began to set up his bubble. Rexxantraum in the distance was brightly lit. It had been visible all day, a great stone monster watching them from the horizon as they’d walked north. The area they were passing through was rich farmland most of the year, Caleb had told them, but nothing but snow and bleakness in the winter. They’d picked their way slowly along a barely-cleared road, the monotony broken only by the occasional pine copse or farmhouse, and the ugly squatting city ahead.

Now though, Rexxantraum was all light. More than the streetlamps he’d expect from any city, the place was flooded with lights dancing along at street level, twining up the towers, even exploding in the air as fireworks. 

He nudged Caleb, once the bubble was up and they’d all huddled in against the cold. They’d circled up in the center and pulled together a sad dinner of traveling rations. Molly was warm and comfortable now at least, leaning up against Yasha with a heap of bedding pulled into his lap. “Is that typical?” he asked. “The big light show over there?” 

“Ah, well, not all the time,” said Caleb. “It’s the longest night of the year, so there is a festival.”

“A festival and we’re missing it?” said Molly. “I’m appalled you didn’t mention it earlier.” The whole group had been so down lately – they could really use a night of drinking. Although, looking at how tightly Caleb clutched Frumpkin to him, and the way Beau scanned the landscape outside their bubble every five minutes, perhaps this wasn’t the time or place.

“It isn’t much,” Caleb replied. “The lights, food and drink, gifts for the children. Fairly typical, ja?”

“Of course,” said Molly, though he had no idea. The festival in the town where the circus had stopped last winter might have been similar, he supposed.

“We’d do the same thing in Kamordah,” Beau cut in. She sat down, to Molly’s relief; her pacing had been driving him up the wall. “Big parade with lanterns, everyone giving out presents.”

“That is similar,” said Caleb. “But it is not so much a parade, up here. Just everyone carrying their lanterns around all night.” He passed a bit of food over to Nott, then continued. “Though they do it wrong in Rexxantraum too. It is meant to be each family at their home.”

“Not even a big town feast?” Beau protested. “Man, what kind of holiday is that?”

“Nott, did you celebrate it too?” Jester asked. 

Nott laughed. “We didn’t really do festivals,” she said. “I guess we would have kind of a feast though, if there was enough food. And there was this mushroom liquor that one of the elders made special for it.”

“That sounds pretty fun!” said Jester. “We didn’t do that one, but people in Nicodranas celebrated just about everything else. The Chateau’s probably hanging lights up today, for people visiting from the Empire, and we’d throw a little ball for Winter’s Crest too. My mama was always really busy, but she’d get me presents for both of them every year.”

“It was pretty much the same in Port Damali,” said Fjord. “Lots of foreigners celebrated, but I never really did. We had other holidays that were a bigger deal. Vandren liked Winter’s Crest though. Not much to do for it on a ship, but he’d give us a bonus, and just be in a good mood generally.”

“What about you, Molly?” Nott asked. “Did the circus celebrate anything?”

They hadn’t, so much. They’d all been from different places, and the holidays had been a great time to earn money, with everybody else off work and celebrating. This time of year hadn’t been much more than a flurry of performances.

“Oh yes,” he said. “We’d be having a great big party right now. Exchanging gifts. Mona and Yuli would make this goat out of straw every year – apparently it’s a tradition where they’re from – and we’d have to watch Orna all night to stop her from setting the thing on fire. She got past us last year, it was spectacular.”

“That true, Yasha?” Fjord asked. “It sounds like quite something.”

Yasha looked up from her meal. “Yes,” she said. “It was very exciting.”

Molly could always count on her to back him up. He patted her surreptitiously on the shoulder, then returned to his meal and his preparations for the night.

 

Hours later, he felt Caleb shake him awake for their shift on watch. “Beau said it had been quiet so far,” Caleb said softly. “Just us out here with the snow.”

“Well, better than trouble, I suppose,” said Molly. The lights of the distant city were still moving, and the snores of the other party members were an almost pleasant hum. The empty landscape around them would have been so much worse if it were quiet.

“But not as good as the parties you’re used to, hmm?” asked Caleb. “I am sorry you had to spend a festival night out here.”

Molly looked at him; Caleb seemed genuinely apologetic. “That was all bullshit before,” Molly said, waving his hand dismissively. “We never did anything for holidays in the circus. We were traveling around too much.” And before that, he had no idea.

Caleb nodded, and they sat in silence for some time, watching the lights. “Aren’t you going to ask why I lied about it?” Molly said abruptly.

“I assumed that was your business,” said Caleb. “And I've known you long enough to take a guess anyway.” He fidgeted with something in his pocket. “I was wondering, actually, why you changed your mind.”

“I've known all of you long enough too,” Molly said. “Not much left to hide anymore. I was just in a mood, I guess. Hearing everyone talk about their traditions, when I've got nothing there.” The circus had been wonderful, but it had been as rootless as Mollymauk himself - always moving on, always focused on the present.

“Hmm,” said Caleb. He pulled whatever he'd been fidgeting with out of his pocket and passed it over to Molly. “I found this in a shop back in Zadash,” he said. “I've been waiting for a time to give it to you.”

“Oh?” said Molly. He unwrapped the bit of cloth around the object to find a slanted shiny brass ring, clearly made for a tiefling’s horn. “That’s lovely, thank you.”

“It’s only a small thing,” said Caleb. “But I thought it might match the others.”

Molly looked more closely at the ring. There was a design pressed into the bright metal, a little pattern of suns and moons. It was exactly to his taste. “Will you put it on me?” he asked. He adjusted his other jewelry to give Caleb room to slide the ring into place. Caleb bent over awkwardly, clearly trying not to bump into him as he moved the ring to where it fit on Molly’s horn. “Sorry I haven’t got you anything,” he said. “Give me a little more warning next time.”

“There’s no need,” said Caleb. “But if you are interested - perhaps we might talk to the others about a gift exchange. If we get through this business and things settle down a little. Or something else to mark the season, if we can get this group to agree on anything.”

Molly looked over at the city again, at the lights moving like they had for who knew how many years, and then back at Caleb’s carefully expressionless face and the sleeping bodies of his other friends. They’d all come from different places, brought their damage and their fears and their memories or lack of them, but they were turning that into something good.

“Make our own tradition,” he said. “I like the sound of that, Mr. Caleb.”


End file.
